The Dark Flavor Of Addiction
by LotornoMiko
Summary: Season Three based, Hook Belle. She may love Rumplestitlskin, but Belle's never been able to deny the irriesitable attraction of a certain pirate. With danger an aphrodisiac for them both, how far will they go to keep on feeding their addiction to one another? And what reprecusssions will they ultimately face? Smut warnings.
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer Time. I do not own Once Upon A time, or the characters here in. No do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.  
>-Michelle<p>

They say grief can lead you to do some crazy, terrible things. That it can make you turn against your friends and your family, make you hurt them, make you hurt yourself. I have had first hand experience with such destructive emotion, both as the one experiencing it, and as the one to feel the direct backlash of another's grief. I've been threatened, chased, actually been struck, looked my death right in the eyes, and it's still nothing close to what I can blame my own actions on. Because it's not grief I am feeling, and it's not love either. It's something else, something that's gone all twisted in my head, and it's so wrong it feels right, the fit and feel of him against me making me crazed. I'm half out of my mind with him, with the things he's making me feel, the lust and the sensations, the pleasurable grind of his leather against the thin lace of my panties as I hang trapped between him and the wall.

The wall at my back, and the pirate pressing me into it, can't stop the sensation I have of falling. I've lost touch with the only grounding force I've ever known, caught in an endless free fall that has my thighs squeezing in tighter around him, my fingers clutching at his back. But I can't stop my descent into this downward spiral. I don't even truly make the attempt to try. I like what I'm feeling, even as it leaves me ashamed, and I hate myself for being so weak and so quick to give in, and yet I wouldn't trade this moment for all of the world.

Because the world can't give me what he makes me feel, this lust that is mad beyond all reason, and the pleasure that goes hand in hand in it's wake. Even as I know regret and shame will color me once I am the slightest bit rational, I keep coming back for more. Maybe I always will. For the sexual thrill of being with a man who'd just as soon as see me dead, for the danger of him, for the threat to my happiness he represents, and even for the fear of what it would mean should this tryst ever be discovered. Hook's not the only danger in my life, and though I've sworn up and down that Rumple would never hurt me, a part of me fears it for the lie that it might just be.

Even that one niggling worry, that fear of the uncertain, cannot put a damper on the excitement coursing through me. He doesn't even have to touch me, I've already melted from just one look into those dark blue eyes. Hook has a way of looking at a woman, a blatant predatory hunger in his eyes, the blue gleaming with every filthy thought and impure desire he has ever had for her. And it's all been focused on me for the last ten minutes, his mask of indifference discarded the instant the Charmings and their daughter had walked out of the shop.

The Charmings would have never left Hook here with me if they had had the slightest inkling of what would happened. But both he and I have played our parts to perfection, our mutual dislike giving no reason for anyone to suspect otherwise. I'm nothing more than his one time victim, a job he's been tasked with to make things rights. Just another hoop for him to jump through in the vain hope he will prove worthy of their daughter. I think of her now, and my kiss becomes vicious, an emotion I have no right to coloring my mood. Jealousy should have no designs on what this is, and yet I WANT to keep him. If only to keep on feeling this way, this odd mix of sexual thrill and danger a drug like no other.

He's like no other, unique in the danger, in the way he makes me feel. No other man has looked at me in the way that Hook has, like he both wants to kill me and fuck me at the same time. He doesn't look at me like an object to be cherished, and Hook's not afraid of the repercussions of getting his hands dirty. He might even welcome Rumple killing him for this, might actively laugh in his face, and I know something is twisted inside him, the nursed grief of three hundred years making Hook this way. It's a recipe for disaster that has been boiling for just short of forever, bubbling over from the first instant I laid eyes on the pirate back in the Queen's tower.

Even then I had been attracted to him, having spied that dangerous gleam in his eyes that I hadn't yet been capable of understanding his reason for. I had been his for the taking, then, now, and all the times in between. Each time has been better than the last, each time wild and frenetic, and each time I've made a liar out of myself by swearing it would be the last. Even now I know I won't be able to stay away from him, and that he won't be able to resist me when I come. He's as helpless to this feeling as I am, to the pleasure he gets out of using me, to the knowledge that he is getting over on Rumplestiltskin every time Hook sinks his cock into my body.

Just thinking about that moment makes things deep inside me twist, my passage tightening in anticipation for what it wants to receive. My breathing already ragged, harshens further, my voice distorted to something that isn't me.

"Stop teasing me." I say in an odd mix of beg and demand.

A low masculine chuckle rasps out of him, Hook lifting up from where his lips has been roughly mouthing my throat, to stare into my eyes. What he sees there makes him smile, Hook approving of the damn near desperate gleam in them.

"We've got time." He says to me, and I manage to shake my head no. I can feel the wavy curls of my hair brushing the tops of my shoulders, most of it trapped between my back and the wall. He supports me effortlessly, as though my weight is a burden he can gladly shoulder all day. Even when I start to wiggle and squirm, a half hearted protest issued pass my lips in response to what he says. "We've got all the time in the world."

"That's not true." I say. "The Charmings..."

"Won't be back for a while. Too busy hunting that witch."

That witch's name was Zelena, and she was the reason why the Charmings had left Hook here alone with me. She just might possibly be hunting me, and the Charming family had felt I needed some sort of protection. Just what they thought a pirate could do against magic, I'll never know, but I can't deny the perks of having Hook here with me.

One perk in particular is pressed between my thighs, the sensation it grinds into me making it difficult to truly focus on anything else. My thoughts begin to scatter, my own hips moving with a purpose, as I start a slow, needy dance that can't quite possibly satisfy me the way that I need.

"Please." I am whimpering over and over, giving tiny moist kisses up and down the length of his jaw. I'm not expecting that laugh, but the pure masculine satisfaction sends a shot of liquid heat straight through me.

"Quite a change from the woman who claimed to not want to be left alone with me." I hear Hook say. "But then there is something to be said about a lady who protests too much." I keep on nibbling my lips into his skin, the scratch of the scruff there a sensation I don't mind. "What would they say, what would they think, to see you like this now?"

"I don't care." I say, breathing in and growing more intoxicated by his scent.

"And yet you want me to hurry." He points out, and I do a slow shrug. I breathe his name into his ear, bite down and pull on the lobe of it, feeling Hook shudder against me in response.

"Hurry." I say. "Before someone comes. Before they..."

"Before they see?" He interrupts. and gives a sharp grin. I don't bother to correct him, merely moaning helplessly as he touches foreheads to mine, and stares that hungry, glittering gaze into my eyes. "A fine idea."

The shock of his words can't jolt me out of my desire, even as I start in place, again trying to squirm free. "No." I say, but it is half hearted. "You-we can't. The Charmings, the witch, even Rumplestiltskin might..."

"Better and better." Hook grins in a cold manner. A thrill goes through me as the danger I've never forgotten Hook represents, that the pirate puts me in, shows clearly in his eyes. I should be screaming, should be shoving him away, instead I am melting, turning to a puddle before him at the thought of Rumplestiltskin catching us. I don't really want to be caught, but the chance of it? Just the idea excites me, in a way its reality wouldn't, the danger the ultimate in aphrodisiacs, and Hook's tipping it over, giving me a direct hit to my veins that has me moaning, writhing against him as the pirate tears off the flimsy scrap of lace that passes for my panties.

I don't know how or when Hook got his pants open, but he's thirsting inside me, the invasion hard and sudden and just how I wanted him. I immediately tighten around him, my body convulsing, and Hook's cursing, holding himself still inside me as I climax all around him. My legs that had been dangling, now lock behind him, my fingertips digging into his back as I pant and sob and scream his name. But it's not over, not by a long shot, the pirate actually shaking, weathering through the worst of my climax before he begins to move.

It's too soon, my toes curling. I gasp and cry out, every inch of him moving inside me, sending waves of further pleasure spiraling through me. I'm wetter than I've ever been, soaked from the inside out, and he's wringing out every last drop of pleasure my body can give, Hook relentless and pounding, his lips buried in the crook of my shoulder. Faintly I hear him, the pirate muttering things, dark, delicious imagery filling my head at the words Hook speaks. I so badly want this, so desperately want him, and it's not enough to have him inside me, I need to feel the hot gush of his warmth spilling inside me.

It is crazy, we are insane, having taken more than enough risks without going any further But just as Hook pushes the boundaries, so do I, wanting, needing to feel him come inside me. My legs locked so firmly around him, don't give an inch when he tries to pull back. I can hear him cursing, warning me of the repercussions of such foolishness but I don't care. And then the sound of someone trying to open the pawn shop's front door, jars me back to reality. Suddenly I can't get away fast enough, legs letting go, hands pushing at Hook to get him away from me. He looks me in the eyes, and this time I go completely cold, seeing the devilish gleam, and the merciless smile. I'm his to do with as completely as he wants, and it seems the pirate cares more about his revenge than the repercussions, pumping furiously in me, his seed erupting forth the instant the front door opens completely.

I moan a helpless no, even as my own body betrays me, coming just as hard, just as fast as before. I'm lost, loving and hating this, hating him, and there's the sound of something-someone falling, and neither one of us is looking, too busy riding this out to it's bitter sweet end.

To Be Continued...?

So..*twiddles thumbs* Okay this is...okay I haven't written anything to completion since the end of AUGUST. I have been going crazy with my inability to write...Lord knows I've tried. So this is part of a writing exercise to get me back into writing. I do intend to continue this, though I am hoping now that I got this out of my system I could hopefully work on one of my other existing fics..

Basically, this is an idea I thought of like two or three weeks ago. Though I couldn't figure out how to start it. I think I've been experiencing fic burn out...like major fic burnt out. Tonight while watching the Belle Anna episode, the opening lines came to me, and wham! What you just read is the end result.

Side note, not completely related to said fic...at least not yet. I have been dying to write something with Hook and handcuffs all week! XD

Oh, so this season three based. The idea came to me when I was thinking about how my other season three one shot, about a review I got. The reviewer had wished for the smutless fluff that didn't happen in that other oneshot...but unfortunately I still didn't end up with fluff or lack of smut in this one either. But I am happy, even if it's a little dark.

-Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

My no is an endless chorus of helpless moans, my breath coming almost too fast, and I can't stop either, can't even try, my horror mixing with my climax, blurring the lines between both. I hang suspended at Hook's whim, effectively trapped between him and the wall, my body trembling, all a quiver and shaking. That shaking is magnified when the pirate shifts inside me,a sharp after shock of pleasure spiking through me. My hands that should be pushing him away instead dig their fingers into him, clinging to him for one second longer. And then I'm crying, shoving at him, actively trying to force him away. I'm completely panicking, my mind going to worst case scenarios, and knowing no amount of damage control can fix this.

Through it all he stares at me, reeking of satisfaction. His expression is feral, with a growing darkness in his eyes, and Hook is clearly relishing my panic. I shove harder at him in retaliation, and slowly he steps back. I'm immediately left feeling empty, the remnants of his climax spilling down the inside of my thighs. A wave of pure revulsion churns through me, my panic and the fact that I had wanted this, now sickening me in the moments after.

I can't even speak, can't even stand, my legs shaking so badly that Hook has a rare moment of concern for me. He put his hand on my hip to steady me, and I bite back a scream, shoving away from him and taking a trembling step to the front of the shop. Hook's a shadow behind me, not saying a word, and he actually catches me in his arms, when my panic gives way to shock.

"Neal!"

Rumplestiltskin's adult son lay unconscious on the floor of the pawn shop. I don't understand the cause for his fall, nor do I know where he's been all this time. But two thoughts are chief in my head, how much had he heard, how much might he have seen? I am immediately ashamed by these concerns, knowing my first priority should be towards checking on Neal.

To that end, I struggle free of Hook's arms, stumbling towards the unconscious man on the floor. My legs shake every step of the way, until I'm falling for real, my knees slamming hard against the tile of the pawn shop's floor. I wince, but my cries are all for Neal, my hands reaching for him, trying to jostle him awake. But neither the shaking, nor my sharp voiced urgency can rouse him, and as I turn Neal over, I spy a still bleeding cut over his eye.

I'm still in shock, the questions I should be asking, the things I should be doing, not coming easy to me. I roll Neal over onto his back, and then I am scrambling off the floor, lurching to the back room where my purse should still be. I pass by Hook who wears a hard expression, the pirate staring not at me, but at the man on the floor. He's not at all pleased to see Neal, and for once this has nothing to do with his attempts at revenge. Hook's surely thinking of Emma, of the woman he and Neal both share an affection for. Things inside me twist, that jealous emotion I have no right to, again coloring my mood.

Practically green with it, I find and open my purse. My fingers close around the tiny phone, and then I am dialing the numbers, trying to control myself, my emotions, my voice. There's too much panic in me, more than is appropriate for the situation. If the emergency operator notices, they do not comment on the oddity of just how upset I sound. Harder yet is the next calls I make, contacting the Charmings, and trying to locate their daughter. Emma's phone goes straight to voice mail, and I do not try to call her a second time. I'm too busy cleaning myself up, trying to wipe away any sign of what Hook and I had been doing.

I catch him watching me as I do this, but for once he's not acting smug. He's still too preoccupied with worry over Neal, with what that man's reappearance will mean for the pirate's chance with Emma. A pettiness I would have once claimed was no part of me, hopes Neal ruins things. I'm not thinking in terms of which man deserves Emma more, but in darker terms, wanting Hook and having no intention to share him. This darker me is someone I don't completely recognize, nor am I comfortable with being this jealous and possessive. And yet it's a side of me that's been awakened, a side of me that isn't going to go away easily. My fingers pick up and crush the lace panties Hook had torn off my body just minutes earlier, the garment completely ruined for any further wearing. I can only be glad my skirt is tight enough and long enough, that I won't run the risk of flashing anyone.

The sound of the ambulance sirens drawing nearer have me shoving the ruined panties into my purse. I'm at the door by the time the paramedics pull up, and it's a hectic few minutes as they work on Neal. He's not in immediate danger, his vitals strong and healthy. He still hasn't woken up, and I hear the paramedics speak of a possible concussion. I can faintly hear myself begging them to do what they have to, and then we're all in the ambulance, even Hook, and being driven to Storybrooke's lone hospital.

At the hospital, I again try to call Emma. I have no better luck than before, and toss my phone back into my purse in a moment of frustration. The medical staff fusses and works over Neal, and the man wakes up halfway through the exam. He's immediately asking for Emma, frantic for her, and just as confused as any of us are, about how he ended up back in Storybrooke. I'm even more frantic, wanting to find out just what he remembers, just what he might have seen at the pawn shop. Rumplestiltskin is practically the last thing on my mind, my guilt and unease, my worry and fears consuming me, and it's all I can do to keep from darting glances at the pirate on a constant basis.

He's on the opposite side of Neal's hospital bed, tall, dark and brooding. Every time Neal asks something about Emma, a tic in Hook's cheek visibly twitches. The pirate is all but grinding his teeth, sometimes actively pacing. His fingers keep curling into a fist, and then uncurling, and Neal is too caught up in thoughts of Emma to even acknowledge the pirate's agitation.

Just as I am about to call Emma's phone for the third time, I hear the sound of people rushing towards the room. I turn, and spy Emma and her father, then catch sight of Neal's face lighting up. More than that, I see Hook, his eyes angry, his lips flattened into a thin line. Anyone can see he's unhappy, but Emma isn't even looking at Hook, her eyes all for the man in the bed. She hurries to Neal's side, takes his hand in hers, and starts asking him questions. Hook and I both shift guiltily, relief in my heart when Neal speaks about how the last thing he can remember is watching Emma's yellow car cross over the town line. Rumplestiltskin's son has a gap in his memories, and it's not just the year we all miss, but the months that follow everyone's return to Storybrooke. I don't know if it's magic at work, or the concussion, and either one might not be a permanent fix to what Neal might have seen back at the pawn shop. Hook and I are not out of danger just yet, Neal holding our fates, our reputations unknowingly in his hands.

The worry is a knot in my stomach, my guilt making me constantly look at Hook. The pirate is not looking at me but at Emma, his gaze narrowing as she continues to hold Neal's hand. He looks practically murderous when Emma caresses the back of her fingers over the cut over Neal's eyes, but he says nothing, just curls his fingers into a fist at his side. I can't stomach it any longer, can't bear the guilt and the worry, but also the jealousy, his AND mine. I make some kind of excuse, some feeble attempt to leave the room.

I go down to the hospital's cafeteria, and buy myself a cup of their too sweet tasting coffee. Save for the initial sip, I barely drink, just nursing the cup in my hands. I sit at a corner table, and I am lost to my thoughts, barely acknowledging when Doctor Whale walks by, the man put off by my complete lack of interest in his come ons. But he's neither of the two men who can get me going, lacking Hook's danger and heat, and Rumplestiltskin's charm. I wonder which is the stronger, the lust I feel or the love that I have? But there are no easy answers, my attraction to Hook insane but powerful, tarnishing my love, making it all but impossible for me to do the right thing. For myself, and for Rumple, this lust an addiction that will destroy us.

Not for the first time, do I try to firm up my resolve. Reminding myself of how this behavior with Hook is damaging, how I stand to ruin not only my life and happiness but Rumplestiltskin's as well. I think on how I felt in that moment in the pawn shop, how stricken and panicked I had been. I tell myself I never want to feel that way again, and I mean it as I stand. I throw away my mostly full cup of coffee, and began the slow walk back to Neal's hospital room. I am telling myself all kinds of things, urging myself to be strong, willing myself to not be affected in the slightest when next I see Hook. I almost think I can do it, and then it all comes crashing down, a hand closing around my upper arm.

I barely have time to react, a startled sound escaping me as I am roughly pulled into a supply closet. The closed door shuts out all light, and I'm not sure what I am thinking, save to panic. I struggle and push at my assailant, my hands trying to fight them off, and then a mouth is roughly covering my own. Even before I feel the cold metal of his hook wedging between my skin and the hem of my skirt, I am melting, recognizing the pirate through his hard, unyielding passion. My arms go around him, his clean masculine scent filling my nostrils, and I am kissing him back, just as hard, just as wild. Faintly I am aware that I'm making a mockery of my resolve, and that I've learned nothing from the near miss with Neal. But I don't waste time to berate myself fully, too caught up and desperate for him, and not even the jealousy that I have experienced many times over this day, can stop me because Hook's not with her at the moment, and it's not Emma whose skirt he is impatiently pulling up.

The skirt ends up rolled around my waist. It'll be badly wrinkled, and I don't even know how I will explain what has happened. I don't even care enough to truly worry, all thoughts of the skirt gone from my head, the instant Hook spins me around, and bends me over a cabinet. His fingers busy themselves on my flesh, the curve of his hook fitting over my throat. I try to hold myself still, but I am moaning, tiny whimpering little sounds, my hips wiggling, my body pushing back against his fingers. They are wicked as they stroke inside me, twisting and curving, working me over until I am wet and half sobbing, begging him for more, for something longer and thicker.

He gives it to me, Hook sinking inside me from behind. From this angle, he hits deeper than before, a loud cry issuing out of me before I can stop it. Hook doesn't reprimand me, actually groans from deep within his chest. For what seems like an eternity, he just holds himself still, as though Hook is savoring the moment. A moment I ruin, squirming, trying to push back, my movements born of my restless need to feel Hook actually moving inside me. He makes a sound, actually bends over my back so that his chest brushed against it. By the time his lips are kissing behind my ear, Hook is moving, a rough and vigorous thrusting that has me clawing at the front of the cabinet.

His hook still positioned around my throat, his wild hips begin a frantic, desperate rhythm. He's pressing more and more on me, his weight pinning me in place over the cabinet, and I love every second of his possession of me. I can't even truly move, can only do a slight squirming, his weight holding me down, and it's turning me on to be controlled this completely. Everything in the moment is his to command, the sex, my body, even the moment when I come. I just lay there, shaking, moaning, and just as I am about to hit the pinnacle of my climax, Hook's wild sounding whisper makes me go cold. Because it's not my name he gives voice to, Emma a cold splash of water that shatters any illusions I might have entertained. I'm not the one he's thinking of in this moment, and I'm merely a pale substitute of the woman that holds a place in his heart.

Something inside me breaks, and it's all I can do to hold back my scream. My body trembles with my suppressed rage, my heart sick with jealousy, and a burning need to make Hook pay. I feel used by him, in a way his revenge hadn't been able to make me feel. I start to vow to myself that never again will I let him touch me, that never again will the pirate have his way with me, but that's not what I really want. I don't even have the words for what I do want from Hook, I'm simply too lost and confused, and torn up by the demon that is my lust for him. Even as I hate him, I move, squirming, writhing, trying to get back to that place inside me that doesn't care about anything but the pleasure he is giving. But it's not going to happen, my mind and my heart to heavy, and in the end I just lay there, enduring Hook's frantic thrusting.

To Be Continued...

So...okay I am scared ya'll are gonna kill me for him saying Emma's name at the end there! But it felt like the natural progression for the story at this point and time. I had a lot of hand holding over the Emma name thing from my friend Huntress. She encouraged me to do what I felt was right for the storyline. So please don't hunt me down and lynch me over it! *goes into hiding*

But if you will all be patient with me, this IS a captain beauty story. It's just a bit dark and long road to get to it. I'm actually trying to play with themes of jealousy and obsession. When I was trying to think of a title (I now have a name for this story!) I actually considered The Dark Flavor of Obsession. Went with The Dark Flavor of Addiction. Fun fact, the title came to me when I was joking to my friend Zerousy about calling the fic either 50 shades of Hook, or 50 shades of obsession.

-Michelle

Jewelzy, oh thanks! Though I won't consider myself back to writing, until I get several chapters actually written. I've been struggling so hard..I tried to write for broken hearted comfort and the trade off (And was in the middle of rereading the stalker fic) but every attempt, was met with spectacular failure. =/

I struggled a bit to get chapter two started. Was scared I was still in major fic burnout. X_X But relieved to get it done tonight, even if I am worried over reactions. *nervous blush* And thank you so much! *hugs*

Clarembess, oh my goodness, what a review! Thank you so much, I've been grinning a lot now! :D I dabble a bit in Captain Swan, but my OTP for Once is Hook Belle. *winks* So glad you like my writings enough to enjoy the Captain Beauty nature of them! Oh my, smut queen? And here I haven't even gotten to cut loose like I really want to in this fic when it comes to the smut. At least not yet. XD But I am flattered all the same! *puts on a smut queen crown.* XD

Cloudy World, I am actually aiming to try to get the handcuffs idea into this fic. But now it's kinda twisted a little...we shall see. Speaking of restraints, I've always wanted to write an absolutely naughty piece about Hook tying Belle up with Baelfire's shawl then having his wicked way with her! XD I just never had the courage to actually go through with it...at least not yet. And thank you so much! *hugs*

Lola Wolf 88, thank you! I'm so happy to hear that! *blushes over the amazing comment* Sadly I am too hard on myself, so it's hard for me to acknowledge my writing as amazing. ^^''

Angelfan984, or so it seemed! XD But who knows, maybe they will get busted sooner or later. And no I don't think that makes you weird. I have at least one friend who thinks that is hot too, and also that friend and a few others find it hot when a guy comes in a woman who doesn't want him too. So it's just different likes for everyone. Doesn't have to mean anyone is weird. :)

00Ambrosie00, why thank you! And here is more! :D

Leonore, thank you! I'm glad you found it hot, and that I am getting you so interested in shipping these two! I will definitely do my best to keep on continuing my stories for them. *kicks writers block in the butt*


	3. Chapter 3

It's not often I lose sight of myself like this. I'm a hard, driven man, used to control, generally unaffected by the chaos that happens around me. I'm the force that causes other people to react, affected by little, and holding even less use for emotions than most men. I've been that way for a long time now, the loss of my brother starting me up this incline, with the death of the one true love of my life completing my transformation. I'm driven, ruthless and merciless, the revenge I seek, that I've sought for several hundred years, making me do all manner of things. Hurt a number of people, and led me to take countless risks. I've been foolish, I've been suicidal, and never have I been more desperate than I am now, my body frantically thrusting, cock pumping furiously as I strive for relief inside the body of the woman I am on top of.

She writhes under me, that lush bottom pushing back against my penetrating thrusts forward, her entire body all a quiver, and I'm the reason she's making those desperate, needy and most of all infuriated sounds. It's a fair exchange, the immense pleasure I feel inside her, making my own voice come out, and it's just as frantic, coming from deep within, and emerging as the harshest of sounds. My deep breaths punctuate each sound, my moaning utterances coming fast and furious, reaching a fever pitch that has me not caring if anyone else might hear. I know this is madness, that this is foolishness of the worst kind, and yet for this moment, this sweet instant of ecstasy, I'd gladly throw it all away. Her life and mine.

With that thought I make a sound that's almost a snarl, my hips' movements becoming erratic. My cock works furiously to rid itself of every last drop of seed. I'm the one shuddering now, the orgasmic bliss rolling through me, as I sweep aside her hair, and place my lips to that tender sweet spot I've discovered exists on the nape of a woman's neck. I murmur incoherent things as I taste the flesh there, and my nostrils flare, taking in the faint vanilla and cinnamon scent of her hair. Beneath me she trembles, her panting breath coming fast. I'm still inside her, surrounded by her heat, and it's like I never want to leave.

In that moment I am unguarded, my desire not only reckless but uncaring. Of person, place or consequence. All that I need, all that I want, is this, the soothing balm of her body and the harsh rasp of her breath in my ear. I smile in a self satisfied manner, my lip's expression hidden against her skin. I can't stop the deep, contented hum of pleasure my voice makes, can't keep my hand from wandering, my lazy content mistaking her squirming for a pleasured response and not the outright rejection she intends it to be.

It's not until she's nearly frantic, her breath hitching between low spoken utterances that are getting louder and more desperate, that I've realize something's gone wrong. Orgasmic euphoria gives way to alarm, my eyes blinking and scanning the darkness that surrounds us. But the shadows are too well blended together, proving ample cover for anyone, anything. Especially monsters, my body rearing back, skin prickling with unease,with anticipation for the blow. That it comes not from the dark, but from the woman who had been beneath me is unexpected, and it's not until her third slap hits that it registers that the only danger I face is the unbridled upset of a Belle pissed beyond measure.

With nary a clue as to what I've done to deserve this, I grab at her. My fingers bite cruelly into the soft flesh of her arm, and then I am shaking her. Her gasp when I demand answers is pronounced, her upset increasing as she gives a haughty little sniff and tries to pull free.

"Let go." Belle demands.

"Not until you tell me what that was all about!" I snap back in retort. I can practically hear her teeth grind together, but it's too dark in this closet to truly see what sort of expression distorts her face. She keeps right on trying to get away, my hold so cruel, so rough that her arm has to be going numb, and yet Belle doesn't voice one word of complaint. She doesn't voice much of anything, too stubborn or prideful to relieve me of my complete confusion. I wonder if I've hurt her, and then just as quickly dismiss the thought. She had been loving it too much, her every shake, wriggle and moan the proof of that. And even if for some reason she hadn't, it's not something I should be caring about, or worse yet feeling even the slightest twinge of guilt over.

And yet the unwanted feeling remains, just a smidgeon of it, but enough to plant a seed of worry within me. Lust is one thing, but to feel anything else, and for Belle? It's a recipe for disaster of the worst kind, and our lives are already complicated enough without my feelings suddenly going soft. I try to remind myself of that as I listen to her cry out in pain, my fingers purposefully squeezing, purposefully hurting her now.

She slaps me with her other hand. I bite my tongue in response, listening to her pitiful whimper. Just as Belle is about to slap me a fifth time, I curse and shove her away from me. My fingers flex, scalded by the warmth I had been manhandling. I am very glad for the darkness, and how it hides me just as well as it does her. I don't know what expression she wears, but I fear mine shows some odd mix of pity and guilt. The worry gnaws at me again, and I am railing in my head about how what I do with Belle is no more meaningful than scratching an itch. But a kernel of doubt remains, and that uncertainty makes a mockery of my claims.

With a muted curse mumbled under my breath, I began shoving myself back into my clothes. My shaking fingers fumble with the button of my pant's fly, and I shoot angry glares at what I think is the shadowy figure of Belle. I can hear the rustle of her clothing, Belle setting herself to rights just as quickly as I do. It seems she can't get away fast enough either, but there's no doubt in my mind that her feelings aren't anywhere as muddled and confused as mine are trying to be.

My jaw clenched in firm resolution, I make a move to leave the closet without a further word spoken. Belle is the one who breaks the silence, her voice oddly shaking with it's expressed anger. "This is the last time, Hook."

I want to agree with her, instead I say nothing.

"Do you hear me, Hook?!" She demands. "This ends. If you come to me again I'll..."

"You'll what?" I challenge, and take an aggressive step towards her shadowy form. "Just what do you think you'll do, just what do you think will be different from all the other times you've so eagerly invited my attentions?"

"I..." She's almost speechless with her anger, and I laugh, a soft spoken sound that is meant to wound as much as mock.

"Face it love, you're as addicted to this feeling as I am."

"How dare you!?" She hisses. I'm getting sick of being slapped by her. "Of all the unbelievable arrogance..."

"And all the denials in the world can't change the fact you enjoy what we do." I retort, my smugness oozing off me in waves. "What's the matter, love? Not getting enough of it from him?"

"Don't even..." I feel her shake. "This was a mistake. It-YOU have always been a mistake!"

"And yet I am a mistake you keep on making." I point out, a smirk curling the corner of my mouth.

"Not anymore." She says it so softly, I could almost pretend I hadn't heard it. But those words twist a knife in me, an irrational emotion forming in me, and it's all I can do to keep from snarling at her.

Somehow I manage, instead sounding completely calm and unconcerned. "So you say."

"Say nothing, I mean it!" I feel a finger poke me in the chest. "I'll never let you touch me again."

"You're going to eat those words." I tell her in a grim tone of voice. "Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And when that times comes, I'm going to enjoy making you beg me for it."

The shadowy form of her stiffens. "The only one who will be doing any begging around here pirate, is YOU."

"Don't be absurd." I tell her with a soft voiced chuckle. "I've never had to beg a woman in my life to get her to fuck me."

"There's a first time for everything." Belle retorts, and pushes past me. "And I realized today I have simply too much self respect to let this continue..."

I grab hold of her arm, no less gentle than before. I hear her gasp, and then I am hauling her against me, trying to cover her mouth with my own. For one second I am certain she is going to yield, and then her teeth bite into my lip. It seems Belle is just as determined to prove a point as I was, and it's her soft, angry laughter that mocks ME now.

"Just what is your problem all of a sudden?!" I manage to demand without actually growling.

"That you don't even know, don't even realize what you've done, is perhaps the biggest problem of all." There's an undertone to her voice that I can't quite figure out, an emotion there that she is trying to hide. I am just as confused as ever, with no real hope of fixing this, and a part of me doesn't even want to try. It tells me I've got too much to lose, that I've finally got a new chance at happiness, that I will be throwing away more than just my life if I keep on pursuing Belle.

It's a voice I should listen to. Faint though it is. And maybe I'll make an actual effort, and find the strength to resist eyes the prettiest blue this side of the ocean, and maybe just maybe it'll get easier with time.

To Be Continued...

This is the part I am gonna be all grr grumbling. I had a REALLY hard time with the Hook POV, and ended up with like four or maybe five drafts. The only thing they all shared in common was the opening two paragraphs. My first attempts, Hook' feelings were too..a little too much too soon Belle love I guess, for this part of the story. Then there was an attempt that went off onto a tangent about Emma that is also more appropriate for much later in the story.

Except for like the first three paragraphs, I am...not sure I am happy with this chapter. I may come back, or I may press on to four. I just don't know at the moment. Cause I do like the writing, but it kinda derails my plans, changes some of what I had intended to do. X_X

I also wonder if it was a mistake to try to do a Hook POV, at least at this point and time in the story. u_u I did debate on making the whole story a Belle POV, but ultimately there are some things I want to show from his POV.

Also think I need to watch season 3b again...it's not gonna follow it much...but there is a Rumple Belle scene, that I am wondering if I am remembering wrong from the actual show.

Super frustrated and intending to work on something else (hopefully!). I have been struggling with this chapter for days. And it's freaking short too! _

-Michelle

Jewelzy, thank you! And thank you so much for the support on the Emma name calling out moment. Was sooo nervous about that! And yes, you got interpreated it right! Him seeking Belle out for comfort after being jealous over Swanfire moments. But now I am still fussing with disastifaction over this chapter three.

Clarembess, oh my goodness! Thank you! Though now I worry three didn't live up to the high expectations the previous two chapters set. -_- I also like the idea of colors..that would be fun to see a fic where each chapter represented a different color for emotion. Thanks again!

Frozen AU, thanks! And yes, captain beauty story! I am such a die hard Hook Belle shipper to the extreme. Though I do on occasion write Hook Emma too. But I pratically live breathe and dream Hook Belle! XD Thanks again!

Fantasy Is Free, why thank you! I hope three did not disapoint. Even if that lunkhead pirate doesn't realize what he did at the moment. *still debating on trying to rework chapter three but at this point I am exhausted from battling the writing of it* I think this will mostly be Belle POVS, with a few Hook interludes thrown in for good measure. He might still be the active voice for next chapter too. Though I am banging my head against a wall, cause I feel like I messed up the story a lot with this chapter...but then another part LIKEs this chapter too much too...

Zerousy, whoo hoo! I'm so glad! Thanks! Man I am sure he would love a threesome, but somehow I don't think the ladies would want to share...XD But I can just see the grin on his face if he got the threesome with them! I'm so glad you liked the chapters by the way! It's so hard not to spoil...especialy about his thoughts regarding him and Emma and Neal...I am trying not to spoil until I get to write them out in story form. Course I am all frowny too, cause I feel like my story derailed itself this chapter. Hook just had to take it in a differnt direction from what I had originally wanted. *still so uncertain*

Cloudy World, oh thanks! Hope the wait for three wasn't too bad. ^_-

Para Norma, thank you! I am trying my best!

Angelfan 984, I do hope I can write the shawl idea someday. *devil horns as I anticpate the ideas in my head about it* and thank you regarding the chapter! I'm so relieved no one chose to flame me over going with my gut, and having him call Emma's name. As I was trying to write three, I am trying to show he has just the tiniest bit of soft feeling (not love maybe a grudging like) for Belle that he's trying to deny having. He's still very much about seeing Emma as his happy future at this point and time...


	4. Chapter 4

The door closes behind Belle with a firm sounding click. Strange how that subdued sound could leave me flinching, how it could hurt more than if she had outright slammed it in my face. It's what that sound, or the lack of it, implies. The clear, firm resolution, and the fact that she thinks I'm not worth any more of her anger. That she might just be right about that, doesn't make it any easier to swallow. I'm left standing in the darkness, my hand raised to one throbbing cheek, while my mind festers with feelings of anger, hurt, and confusion.

The fact that I don't understand even a quarter of those feelings or where some of them are coming from, doesn't lessen the impact they have on me. I'm still angry, still confused, and most damnable of all, there's some soft, weak emotion inside me, a feeling that persists in me worrying, not for myself, but for her. There is strength in that feeling, my guilt and concern going far beyond any thoughts of lust and revenge. It's a fact that I've started to care just a little, and that it's a complication I neither want nor need.

I let out a breathe, and it's a world of trouble voiced in that sigh. Because complications aside, the feeling remains. Weak, fluttering, but existing all the same. And not even my anger can kill it, this treacherous feeling of like stealing it's way into my heart. I mutter a curse against it, against her, but it's really myself that I am so angry with. For being so stupid, for unknowingly giving such feelings a chance, for making a mockery of my revenge. It's all gone twisted inside, and it has been that way for a while now. From that first unwitting time I had sought Belle for something other than my revenge, for the sex and the comfort, and the fact that she was there when Emma was not.

She's been a break from the madness, Belle's warm, soothing presence a tangible thing I gravitate to. There's a fire inside her, a vibrant passion that is wasted on others, wasted on HIM. And if I am the tiniest bit honest, it's been wasted on ME. Because it's not something I've been able to appreciate fully, blinded by my revenge, by the things she represents to me. Belle's been the means to an end that keeps on changing, my revenge falling to the side in favor of a woman who keeps on hurting me.

Emma Swan.

I think of her now, the complex of associated emotions as always staggering. Emma's been my hope, my elation, my chance at a happy ending. She's also been a wealth of disappointments, a source of frustration. She's left me angry, and jealous, bruised and battered by heartbreak and it's made all the worse for the fact the woman doesn't even realize half of what she's doing to me. Emotionally distant, as well as once separated by realms, Emma's always been out of my reach in one way or another. I keep on trying, keep on chasing after the dream of her, but that chance for happiness remains elusive.

It's not that I am an impatient man. But frustrations abound, Emma's every verbal dig and thoughtless gesture, sending me reeling. Hurting and in desperate need of a comfort she won't give me. It's never been easy to court Emma Swan, and in a lot of ways I know it won't ever get any easier. Because I know she doesn't love me, and it's something I've known for months now. Ever since that day on her doorstep, when I attempted true love's kiss and it had failed in the most spectacular of ways.

I hadn't wanted to believe. Hadn't wanted to admit that Emma doesn't care for me. Not in the way I want, not in the way I need her to. In some ways I still don't want to acknowledge that truth. But some days it is harder to lie and make excuses for Emma and her behavior. It's like a poison that sets, festering long before the jealousy seeps in. The sheer wave of envy that comes on the heels of Baelfire's return? Seeing them together, the tender smiles, the concern in her eyes, the loving touches? It tears me up inside, and it's made all the worse because it's something I know I can't compete with. And a part of me knows enough to not even try.

But acceptance doesn't come easy. And that acceptance doesn't make it hurt any less. Is it any wonder that I seek Belle out, that I go to the one woman I've sought comfort in over the course of this past year? A year that she, that they all can't remember, but it's happened all the same. Just as these feelings have happened, and hurt gave way to desperate need. All my pain and frustration, all my passion and desire, and most of all my anger, funneling into a lust that was all consuming.

Set ablaze by it, for several frantic minutes I was able to stop thinking. Able to stop dwelling on what was lost, unable to focus on anything but the feel of the woman around me. I had been all but mindless, a being existing solely for the pleasure. That I had gotten it had been a blessed relief, but I hadn't had a chance to linger in my satisfaction for long. A dozen panicked thoughts had gone through my head at the change in Belle's demeanor, the woman frantic to get out from under me. For a very real split second, I had feared the dark, and it was that reaction that let me know I wasn't ready to throw my life away. It was a good realization to have, to know I wasn't completely crippled by the pain of Emma's rejection. But I wasn't healed from it either, the pain simply waiting, wanting to be warped into something else. That it turned into a kind of taunting anger, had little to do with Emma, and everything to do with the spitfire I had been fucking just seconds earlier.

Twisted by the feelings Belle had made me feel, the worry and concern, that damnable like, I had been all too quick to hurt her in turn. Mocking her with one breath, goading her with the next, downright cruel at times, Belle the one remaining comfort in my life that I was attempting to destroy. Maybe I had succeeded, her words sounding final. But there's a twist in my gut, a feeling not unlike the ones I have come to associate with my heartbreak over Emma. Because it's not just my lust that is protesting the idea of losing Belle too, but the parts of me that are hurting, that are in need of the brand of solace she is so good at giving.

Those protests are exactly why I should be staying away. Exactly why I should run from not to, Belle. It's a tricky, slippery slope once feelings get involved, the like that I am experiencing, quick to evolve into something more. It's a seed of emotion I won't be able to carve out, a feeling most addicting, the fleeting chance of it making a new fool of me. It would be the utmost in stupid to rebound from one impossible love to another, and it's not just the danger of Rumplestiltskin that makes it so. There's Belle herself to consider, her heart foolishly given away to another, to a man that's more monster than anything, and despite all, both her sins and his, their love remains true.

It's a love I can't win against. A love not unlike that which exists between Emma and Neal, and I'm the loser twice over for even thinking like this. Weakened by my feelings, by the defeat I feel every time I think of Emma with Neal, I'm letting that damnable like for Belle hurt and confuse me even more. Reeling from it, from her, from THEM, I've let things become a whole lot more complicated than I have ever wanted.

The complicated makes me bristle, leaves me longing for the days when my greatest want had been revenge. Back then, lonely as it was, I had been unfettered and free. Surrounded by people I hadn't given a damn for, using them all, using Belle and Emma for my own gain. I'm reaping the product of what I've inadvertently sown, both women beyond me, both them and the happy ending I've always known was impossible but had craved for it all the same.

It's never been fair. And it's a fact that's never going to change. I can play the hero all I want, but the fact remains startling clear. I'm a villain, and we don't get to be happy for very long.

It's a lesson I've had to learn, a truth I've had to be forced into embracing. It's a fact that has been rubbed into my face, the smile and concern on Emma's face, the touch of their hands together, the quiet rejection just as stinging as any of the blows Belle had slapped into my face. My expression hardens, my thoughts becoming uglier, and it's pure self destructive loathing that has me tossing away all attempts at playing heroic.

I saunter out of the closet, and it's a choice I make, not to try and leave as quietly as possible. I don't care who sees, who knows, giving them plenty to speculate on by my disheveled appearance. Eyes widen, and brows lift, my smirk further filling in the blanks of the tale. I'm downright defiant as I enter into Neal's hospital room, trying to ignore any pangs of those loathsome, soft and hurt feelings. She hasn't moved an inch from his side, their hands still holding, fingers still entwined. Emma never even turns to look my way, and that puts the final nail in the coffin of my happy ending.

My fingers curl, my hand making a fist. It doesn't hurt any less, and it's a hurt that makes me eager to lash out. I want to inflict the same pain I am feeling, shatter their dreams, and ruin their moment. I want an end to their happiness, but really it's myself I am seeking to destroy. And with me, I'll drag them all down, and it still won't be enough, won't change a thing. She, they, won't love any less, and I'll still be drifting, drowning in misery.

I shift in stance, forcing my eyes away from the loving pair on the bed. It's all too telling, that my gaze immediately goes to Belle. She starts in reaction, caught in the act of watching me watch them. My brow lifts with an unvoiced question, my mocking smile making her frown in turn. Belle stares at me a second longer, than abruptly turns away, her focus elsewhere a clear cut dismissal.

I keep on staring, watching the angry, embarrassed color seep into her pale skin. Her own fingers clench, tight fists forming on her lap. She's too affected by my stare, too bothered by what had happened, what I had caught her doing but also by the insults I've given her. The words I had taunted her with echo in my head, and not for the first time do I wonder if I'll have the strength to stay away. She's not the only one with an addiction, and her body is a brand of comfort I am needing, that sweet, sweet solace something worth craving.

That the complications remain, don't completely sour the idea. I'm in more trouble than I thought, a glutton for misery that eagerly goes to stand in her way. Belle frowns at me again, then turns her attention to Emma, the woman saying something about a picture. Belle nods in a distracted manner, checking a device I've seen many of them use in this world.

"Belle, can you do some more research?"

"Yeah, sure, absolutely." She says, already standing, already gathering her things. I don't move from the door, forcing her to brush up against my body as she tries to leave. The glare of her eyes, burns their blue brand into my soul, and I again give her that mocking smile, before stepping aide.

I'm moving to follow, when Emma stops me with a word. The hope that has been with her, flutters in a weak attempt to revive.

"Hook, wait." She hasn't even left the bed, still sitting perched by his side. "I need you to stay here."

"What, why?" I ask, fighting the urge to cross my arms over my chest.

"There's still some things I need to do. And someone has got to stay with Neal until he gets the okay to leave." She says.

Babysitting the man that she loves, it the last thing on my to do list, and I start to shake my head no.

"Hook, please." Emma pleads, and I make one last ditch effort to get out of it.

"What about Belle? Who is going to keep HER safe?"

Emma glances at her father, who nods at me. "I've got this covered." He says.

"Hook?"

"Fine." I exhale a deep sigh, letting her know how put upon I feel. She gives me this sad sort of half smile that looks nothing like the dazzling love she has shown the man in the hospital bed. It's a sad sort of pitying expression that says Emma knows the book of us is closing before the first pages have even been written.

I can't help but wonder if the tossed away chance of US hurts her even a little. If it will keep her up at nights, if the memory of me will bother her even just a little. A part of me hopes it does, I don't want to be that forgettable, that easy to dismiss from her life. I want the memory of me to burn, the kiss we shared to haunt her, to get under her skin where Emma won't be able to ever get me out. It's not her pity I want, it's regret. I want Emma to realize that she's making a mistake, unit her doubts and insecurities have poisoned her happiness. I want her to regret choosing him, want Emma to spend the rest of her life knowing she could have been mine.

I want that knowledge to hurt, and I want her wallowing in the misery of it all. But what I want most is to have mattered, to have affected someone so strongly, so profoundly, that I break free of the villainous pattern I find myself locked into by fate. Maybe then the happy ending that I strive for will be in reach, no longer taunting me with fleeting glimpses of what could be.

To Be Continued...

This is such a weird rambly chapter. *head meets desk* I kinda like it anyway, even with all the fussing over it I did. Part of the problem with the Hook POVS, is I swear the character is derailing all my plots and plans. X_X ERG. *smacks Hook for making things exceedingly difficult for me* I'm also worrying some things don't match up right between this and last chapter, but part of the reason it's rambling, is because I was trying to show Hook coming to terms with some stuff (mostly about him and Emma), with Hook finally acknowledging the realizations he's had for a while now.

This went through some rewrites. I think I got food poisoning that one Monday last week. All I know is I wrote from 7 pm to 2 am, then the food poisoning made itself known. By the time I felt better, I reread what I had labored on for hours, and discovered almost all of it was pure crap. I only kept the first three paragraphs from that night. But the I struggled with how the heck do I flow into the fourth paragraph after my third one ends. it was quite an ordeal to finally figure it out, but I seem to have, so yay?

I also got derailed by a plot bunny. I briefly alluded to it in here, but basically while writing this, my trashed attempts was influenced greatly by this plot bunny. The plot bunny being, the year that everyone was cursed to forget but Hook, he had spent a lot of that year with Belle. I'm thinking of modifying it, and I've had him allude to it in this chapter. Basically I am thinking he visited her several times, in need of comfort.

I'm really torn up over this chapter. I'm fearing it's too weird, or too stupid. Some of this Hook Emma stuff was affected by my feels for season 3B. I did feel like she kept unthinkingly hurting him. Confession time! When she and he confronted Zelena and Rumple, well when Emma was being insulting, saying something about why don't you curse someone I'd actually be willing to kiss, I had a fuck you moment. I literally went in my head, "Fuck you Emma, you don't deserve Hook."

And then she went and gave up her powers to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation, and I was all, "All is forgiven Emma!" But then she pissed me off again at the end of that same episode, when she insisted she was still going to take Henry and leave Storybrooke (and Hook.). So 3b was rough on me for the Hook Emma feels. Though I LOVED the two hour finale. XD

Now season four has been rough, not because of Emma Hook, but because of Rumplestiltskin. I don't know what the writers think they are doing, how they can even hope to justify his bad behavior, and then I had a freak out moment, cause I thought they were gonna end last week's episode with him killing Hook. *flails*

Even before that heart reveal, I was worrying because of Rumple, that Hook's happy ending with Emma was going to be in jeopardy. I just want Hook to be happy! *flails*

Heck, the chapter was rambling, and so was my author's note. I'm still die hard Hook Belle, but I've always accepted my pairing isn't going to happen unless the writer's start doing crack cocaine and get crazy. So instead I just sit there, hoping for my fave characters to get happy endings, even if it's not with each other in cannon.

Another rambling side note, I've been shipping Elsa Emma pretty hard. I even debated writing fic about it. XD

Back to this fic at hand...I don't want to do three Hook POV's in a row, but I think I kinda have to, to deal with Neal/Baelfire's death. I just have in mind a guilty Hook POV, where our fave pirate is all, "I never wanted him to die!" But we'll see. I seriously want to be able to write an update for one of my other fics...I've been thinking the stalker fic, but THIS one has me drained to the point I don't think I want to deal with another angsty fic. Actually I've been thinking a lot about my Hook Emma Neverland fic...though it means I have to hold off on smut if I work on that one. XD

-Michelle

00Ambrosie00, oh my goodness, you did?! Yay! I am so happy it went over well, cause I was so struggling and so worried with chapter three. I'm worrying for chapter four, but more cause it was heavy on the Hook Emma dynamic then anything. I am going to continue this, but I may be taking a break. I need to rest and recharge, (and slap Hook some!) and try to steer this fic back onto the course I originally thought for it. I swear the Hook POV was really derailing my initial intents.

Jewelzy, whoo hoo! I'm glad it made your day, cause you and the others reviewers, make mine! :D I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. And thank you, I enjoy reading yours and the other readers, what you gals and guys think and glean from my writing. :)

Angelfan984, well I was trying to write it that he was so lost in the moment, so didn't realize he cried out Emma's name. I do worry I kinda I dunno...goofed up quite a bit if that wasn't clear. X_X Yeah, they do seem to make her that way in the show, a little too good and submissive I guess? But what woman wouldn't get that pissed, to hear the guy they were with moan another woman's name.

UTurner, oh my, thank you! :D You've all written me such encouraging response to the chapters. It makes me glow, all blushy and happy. :D As for writing difficulties, I think I am something of a perfectionist. Which sucks, cause I am far from perfect, then stress and drive myself up a wall trying to get the chapter written right. My friend Huntress always says I am too hard on myself. When I mentioned this idea to her like a month ago, she advised not to start it right away, cause she said since I hadn't written anything in a while, I would be extra hard on myself to get my writing right. And then on top of it, sometimes I get stubborn. Like instead of taking a break and switching to a different story, I decided I am going to get the chapter written, and written the way I want it, even if it kills me. I once spent three weeks struggling with a single chapter, cause I got obsessed and would not switch to a different fic, even though friends were telling me I should. I love to write, but sometimes it's a pain in my ass. X_X

Lola Wolf 88, thank you! I just might. (All signs point to yes on that, but then the Hook POVS are throwing me off my game.)

Clarembees, why thank you! Thank you so much! Confession time. When I didn't get a response from you for a few days, I had honestly feared the Hook POV had let you down. So glad that wasn't the case! You and the other readers have been great at reassuring me over it. And you're so sweet, wishing me to get the confidence boosts from each review. (which I so am! :D Sometimes I just need a lot of hand holding it seems...I have a love hate affair with my own writing. X_X)

Frozen Au, oh thank you! I enjoy the tension! XD Glad you seem to like it too! And so happy to read you found his POV for three brilliant! Sorry I made you all wait so many days for the next chapter. X_X

Zerousy, thank you my friend! :D Oh my, I so giggled out loud when I read that bit about how he needs to be slapped sometimes because he's too sexy! XD

Carly Chameleon, thank you! Yes, lot of dark intense emotions to play with here! *rubs hands together gleefully even if it's exhausting to write at times* Yeah, amnesia seems to happen a lot in Storybrooke, so is it any wonder she's worried. XD Thanks again! *high fives*

AnaBelle, thank you! I'm so glad you gave this story a chance. :D Aw man, that episode...it's like what are they doing with Rumplestiltskin. How are they gonna justify giving him a happy ending, heck are they even gonna after what he's been pulling this season?! *flails*

By the way, not to be too um..I guess pushy and self promoting, but I do have several more fics for the Hook Belle pairing. Maybe you'll like to check them out to some day! *votes for the untitled time travel curse fic as one* Thanks again!


	5. Chapter 5

It pains me to look at him. To look at the man he has become, to see the effect she has had on him, Neal as he now prefers to be called, practically aglow with Emma's love. With the warmth she has shown him, the concern that she has expressed, and the tenderness of her continued touch upon him. I feel completely forgotten by her, Emma's every thought for Neal, right down to the favor she has asked of me. I wonder if Emma even knows how much it hurts me, how much the love that they both share kills me inside.

Broken by it, by her, the feelings that I have had, that I have harbored for Emma, twist. Until little is left but ugly resentments, and the regret that even now I can't tell her no. Maybe I'll never be able to. Maybe I'll find myself forever in Emma's thrall. Always helpless to resist, always on the outskirts of his shadow, watching and waiting for the love I will never have.

It and love's promise of happiness never seem farther from me than it does now, the chance of it dangling just out of my reach. I can grab for it all I want, can and have made a fool of myself trying, but in the end it amounts to nothing, my hand alone not enough. I am not enough, some fault from within leaving me unworthy. Of it and of her, some stone carved rule setting out my path. Villains don't get happy endings, and I'm as rotten as they come. Have been that way for a long, long time, and all the wishing in the world won't change it, my past misdeeds or me.

Knowing what I am, even accepting it, doesn't lessen the blow. There's an anger simmering inside me, a darkness boiling over in direct response to the hurts that have been dealt me. I resent her, and I resent him, and it's all I can stand to do as Emma asks of me. Favors both voiced and not, the staying with him, and the standing aside. Both deal in equal measures of pain, the hurt that I am feeling and my resentments increasing. I don't want to be anywhere near them, don't want to see, to witness the love that they have expressed.

To that end, I excuse myself from the room. It's no easier to breathe out in the hall, the dark press of emotion crushing me in it's grip. But at least I can't see them, can't watch the way they hold hands, or witness every second that she continues to linger by his side. I can't escape my disappointments however, or the anger inside of me. At her, at them, but also at myself. For all of it, for her, for the disappointments I had set myself up for, and for the fact I had known from the start that this is how it would all end.

Having never lost sight that we weren't really meant to be, that there's always been some sort of obstacle between us. Her love for Neal, the kind of man that I myself am, even whole realms between us, a part of me had still foolishly tried. And just as I had tried, I had set myself up to fail, a part of me divided, my interests split between the two. Emma AND Belle, and neither one of them were what I had originally set out to make them.

A part of the equation long before my interest in Emma became romantic, Belle's been a part of my life for years. She's been the means to my revenge, she's been my pleasure made real, and most of all, Belle has been there as comfort, seeing me through both the good times and the bad. She's been there for the highs and the lows, has even saved my life. She's as close to a friend as I can call, and she doesn't remember even half of what she's done for me.

An indispensable, invaluable facet of my life, it's no wonder that I haven't been able to cut her free. My secret addiction, the sweet drug I've grown dependant on, I've gone from using her for revenge, to actually needing her. Especially now, the bad habit established, the hurt Emma's dealt me, leaving my emotions raw and reeling. Sparking need within me, my desires and instincts mingling, the response I've conditioned inside me seeking an end to the pain in the only way I now know how. That brand of comfort that Belle is so good at, my pain pushed aside, forgotten in the moments I am buried inside her.

In those moments, no one else seems to matter. Not Emma, not Neal, not anyone else in this God forsaken town. The problems that seem to plague Storybrooke, the things that even I should be concerned with, turn inconsequential, and I'm back to being that greedy, selfish pirate. Existing only for my wants and needs. It's not just about coming, not just about comfort. There's a burning need there, a passion that's well met, Belle just as addicted, yearning for me, WANTING me in a way that Emma has never.

It's that wanting that tips it all over, that sexual longing we both feel for one another that has kept me coming back. It's been a sizzling awareness from the start, an undeniable chemistry that neither one of us has tried very hard to fight. We're a well matched pair, Belle and I, right down to our complete disregard of the consequences our actions may ultimately have. On each other, and on others, this reckless, lustful need stopping just short of complete self destruction.

A volatile thing, a need this powerful won't just end because Belle demands it to. There's a reason it's called addiction, why you can't just quit cold turkey. Belle is naive if she thinks otherwise, and I'll be there to catch her when she finally falls. And if she needs a little push in the process, I'll do THAT too. Because I've already decided, and I don't care if my actions will be dragging us both down. Belle doesn't get to decide when and how this ends. Any more than I do. It's not smart and it's not sane, this addiction such that it may get one or both of us killed. It'll be one hell of a ride in the process, and perhaps that thrill will be worth the trouble that follows.

There's only the slightest thread of worry within me, the slightest sliver of concern. Some damnable soft emotion, a feeling born of noble intentions. I'm not anywhere strong enough to heed it, that same voice from before doing the faintest of whispers. I realize it's not just the strength that I lack, but the desire, and I'm so tired of trying to do right. In trying to become good enough for Emma, I've lost sight of myself, and I can't be that selfless any more.

I feel a weight lift up off me, all attempts at playing the hero gone. There's a weary acceptance in me, but also a sense of right. We all have roles to play, and mine fits me like a familiar glove. I slide into it without looking back, don't pause to say so much as a goodbye. The man that I could have been, that love that I had been striving for, nothing but distant and bitter memories better left forgotten.

It's the cold eyes of Captain Hook that meet Emma's, and the woman's so addled with her love and concern for another that she doesn't even notice the change. Maybe none of them do. Maybe they've never seen me as anything but a pirate, never believing in the chance that I could be better. The man that I had once tried to be would have flinched, hurt by that realization, by the mere idea that they had doubted in his ability to change. The man that I am now simply doesn't care, untouched by their opinions, by their complete disregard of who I had tried to become.

That wanna be hero makes my lips curl. He's weak and pathetic, and an existence who has brought me nothing but pain. I certainly won't miss him, not the pain, not the heart break, not the numerous hurts that Emma herself has help inflict. That man who I had tried to be, hadn't known any better, too caught up in the pursuit, trying his best to become worthy. He-I had never stood a chance of that, or of her, and all the wishing in the world won't change that.

The raw realization is one I have known for just short of forever, and it's one I have been fighting, blindly protesting and outright denying. I just hurt myself more for all those attempts at denial, Emma's every action sharpening the dagger I have thrust inside me. I've bled for her, and I've bled all over Belle, every time Emma so much as thought of Neal sending me running to the brown haired beauty.

Emma's done a lot more than just worry, the love expressed today open and honest. There's no room for doubts, no room for ME, Emma just as in love with Neal as he is with her. The wounds that I've helped Emma make, lay open, and it is anger and resentments that fester inside them. Blame bubbles in my heart, the twisted dark emotions ugly with what they make me feel, what they make me think.

It's with dark sullen eyes that I watch the two say their goodbyes. It's sickening the way she lingers at his side, the way she acts as though this parting is going to be longer than a handful of hours. Most rage inducing of all, is the one trust she gives me, Emma expecting me to stay, to watch over and protect the man that she loves. That I do must mean some flicker of the hero must still remain inside me, that or some self loathing need to inflict as much pain on myself as possible.

There's a million tortures to be found in this room even after Emma has left it. The scent of her perfume lingers,and it's strongest by the bed. By HIM, Neal sitting there, smiling, as love addled as Emma. Not even the danger that he's in, can make him focus on anything else for long, Neal aware of his victory, and just how lucky a man he now is.

I turn away from him, turn away from that love addled smile. Turn away from the soft warmth in his eyes, and go to stare out a window. There's people out on the hospital's lawns, but they barely hold my attention. Especially when he finally talks, Neal's voice soft, wistful.

"Hard to believe a whole year has gone by."

I glance sideways at him, but don't turn from the window. "What's it like to lose a year of your life?"

Neal shrugs. ""I'd say strange, but...that doesn't begin to cover it. It feels like just yesterday that I watched Emma and my son go driving over the town line..." He's a blur of restless movements, rubbing a hand over his face, shifting his legs on the bed. "Are you really sure it's been a whole year?"

"I'm sure." I don't bother to tell him I counted out every day since I had been torn from Emma's side by Pan's curse. "And if you don't trust my way of counting, then there's the fact that Snow White is due to give birth just about any day now."

"Makes me wonder what else we missed out on, what else we all got up to during this past year." I feel his curious gaze settle on me. "I understand you weren't cursed."

"No." A curt answer is all I give him. I'm not willing to go into the details, not willing to share with him the sacrifices I had made. Both to avoid the dark curse, and to play hero to a woman who doesn't want me.

"Don't you find that at all strange?" He asks me. "Why you out of all the people in this town?"

"Just lucky I guess."

"No one is that lucky by chance!" Neal retorts. "Something or someone had to warn you. I want to know who."

"Too bad for you but we don't always get what we want."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Neal frowns at me.

"Nothing." I lie. "Instead of focusing on what you can't remember, you should focus on what you do have. Emma and your son..."

"He doesn't remember me." Neal whispers. "Henry doesn't remember a damn thing about me. No, it's worse than that. He thinks I'm a loser. He thinks I abandoned him and his mother..."

"Didn't you?" I asked, and turn a curious gaze on him. "It's my understanding you left her to rot in jail for your crimes."

"It wasn't like that!" Neal protested. "I was...I didn't, that is..I thought I was doing what was best for her."

"For her, or for you?" I demand. He frowns in response. "We both know you didn't want to go back to your father. We both know you were ready to do just about anything to avoid him. I bet when you found out she was the savior you couldn't run far enough fast enough..."

His face turns an angry shade of red, and his hands are clenching into fists. Neal shakes his head again, and then abruptly tears out the iv line and it's needle from his arm. "This is stupid." He announces, and goes to stand and gather his things. I am half hearted as I move to block the door, not really wanting to stop him, not really caring to try.

"Get out of my way Hook."

"Emma asked me to stay here with you." I point out, my gaze just as hard as his.

"And we both know you do whatever she asks, right?" He demands, and my jaw clenches in reply. "Look, it doesn't matter. I don't have time for your games. I need to be out there, with Emma, trying to find my father and whoever is responsible for the curse that was cast. We need to work together to stop her..."

"In your condition you'll just get in Emma's way."

"I'll be fine." He insists, and then pushes past me. "The sooner we find this witch, the sooner we can all go back to our normal lives...or whatever passes for normal in this town."

"Yeah, good luck with that." I mutter insincerely. But I let him go. I've little real interest in stopping him, and if Neal's that energetic, than he deserves whatever he gets. And I'm through caring about what happens to him, or about what Emma's reaction will be. To him, to me, to all of it. I'm through with their problems, and with the problems plaguing this town. From now on I'm out for myself, and myself alone, taking what I want when I want it, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me.

To Be Continued...

I am so frustrated by this chapter. I have been trying to work on it for days. Had a hard time starting it, then I got pretty far, like 11 kb but was doubting the whole time. It serves to listen to my doubts, cause I realized I needed to dissemble a lot of what I had written, cause Hook was having thoughts and realizations way too fast. In other words he went from one thing, to another way too fast. Acceptance and understanding that should have taken place over the course of several future chapters. Let's just say he went from hurting to look at Neal, and accepting he's a villain, to getting along with Neal, and thinking he has a chance to be something in between hero and villain. *face palms* I had a hard time to accept that I had to trash it at this time, cause I really like what I had written, but it would have done the story and Hook a great disservice to rush him that fast from point A to point B.

On the plus side, it gives me stuff to work towards trying to get to happen in this story. This idea has become very much a fly by the seat of my pants experience. Basically every time I make plans, or try to plot, Hook's narratives completely mess up any chance of the things I wanted to do. So I am just going with the flow and trying to get there.

I also stressed myself trying to get this chapter finished before 8 pm rolls around. I fear Hook's fate in the winter finale tonight, and if they do what I think they might do, I am gonna be devastated and not want to write. (meaning I fear Rumple is gonna succeed and crush his heart! *flails*)

Another thing that helped delay this, aside from Hook always throwing a monkey wrench was trying to decide if I follow cannon and have Neal die or not. Still trying to decide...

-Michelle

Angelfan984, thanks. It's really appreciated, especially since I was so unsure about that chapter. So thank you so much for the feedback! I'm just about as interested as you, since very time I try to plan out this fic, Hook veers me off course from that big time. Right now it's like the return of Dark Hook, so anything can happen. ^^''

Clarembees, why thank you! Thank you so much! I had feared I had pissed off both factions, the Hook Belle supporters for having him think so much about Emma, and the Hook Emma people for the nature of his thoughts. So thank you so much for another great review! Quick question, is stan and stanning like fan and fanning? I was kinda confused by the use of that. *blush* Oh god, Rumple has me so mad and anxious. I am like freaked out with worry over what could happen on tonight's episode! *clings with you for support*

Zerousy, thanks hon! Yeah his brain is sex addled, and he's thinking all dark, all wounded from his hurt over Emma. He's gonna be a naughty pirate now...or at least that is what he is whispering rather insistently to me. I am trying to resist, or rather not make plans, cause every time I think I have a path led out for me, he knocks me off course! He wasn't even supposed to be the POV character for five! But after multiple rereading of the first four chapters, it made sense that he needed to speak some more.

Ryunn Kazan, I don't know, but hope you are enjoying it!

Donna, oh thank you! Thank you so much! :D Sadly we had to wait for actual Captain Beauty interaction, but I am determined to get him to the pawnshop for the next chapter. ^_-And then hopefully...some delicious Hook Belle feels! One way or the other! XD

Fantasy Is Free, oh my! Funny enough, I was in the middle of rewatching the ep (15 of season three) when I got your review notice in my mailbox. Even though it's so clearly veering from cannon, there was some details I wanted to check on. Thank you so much for your great review, quite the ego booster. *hugs*

VanyCee, thanks! Hope you liked this Hook POV too!

Woilada, thank you! I love and adore this pairing too. So damn obsessed with putting them together. :)

Ligeia Resurrected, I don't know but better late than never says I! Actually I started wondering if someone talked about this story somewhere, since I got a whole bunch of new reviews in the last few days. ^^;;

Hmm, fave story of mine might be The Trade Off. But it depends really on my mood I guess. I need to update that and the time travel curse one too...so many in fact. I was on such a fic burn out for a while there. X_X

Hook Elsa? I'm not sure to be honest. I mean I wondered if anyone would ship them enough to write for them, but I have to admit I am more into the pairing of Elsa with Emma. *blush* But I also read at least one of your Hook Elsa fics. Don't know if you saw my review. I don't hate the pairing, but it doesn't set me on fire the way Hook with Belle does. Meaning I like it enough to read it, but probably wont be writing Hook Elsa stuff. Unless I somehow get hit with a crazy plot bunny that won't let me go for them...X_X


	6. Chapter 6

There's an open book laid out in front of me, the first of what may prove to be hours worth of research staring up at me. I stare down at the page, at the squiggly lines of text that have all blurred together, and not for the first time do I let out a sigh. I don't even know how many times I have looked at this particular page, how often have I started this book over, paging listlessly past numerous ink drawings. I don't even know half of what I have looked at, my mind unable to truly focus on the task at hand. The one fact that is made apparent through all this? That I am going to be of no good to anyone, least of all the Charmings and Neal.

With a immensely frustrated sound escaping my lips, I slam the heavy book closed. Dust seems to rile up from it's ancient and weathered pages, the book and others like it, a mocking reminder of what I had promised to do. There's hours of research to be had, hours of searching that is made worse by the fact that I cannot concentrate. It doesn't matter the urgency of the situation, how time itself might be working against us all. I simply cannot focus, all my thoughts, all my energy consumed by HIM. By thoughts of Hook, and of our last encounter.

Haunted by it, by him, by the words spoken, I wonder if I have the strength to back up the words I had hissed when at my most furious. Somehow hours after the fact, when the worst of my anger has fled, I am left just tired and shaking, with nothing to warm me but the cold feeling of my regret. The feeling should be nothing new. I've often regretted my actions with Hook after the act is over. It, the lows that I have experienced, go hand in hand with the highs I've felt at his touch, that mad cap play of extremes, Hook making me run the gamut of feelings when with him and when not. I've been aroused, I've been desperate, I've been uncaring of the danger and damage done. Only to come crashing down, sick over what I've done, over what I've allowed to happen, my heart beating frantically, regret and self loathing coloring me, and each time I've not let it stop me from doing it again. Gladly and eagerly, something very much like joy filling my heart every time Hook stroked that needy itch inside me.

It's not something I can claim to understand. Nor is it something I can truly excuse. I'm a different woman when I am with Hook, something inside me responding to that dangerous gleam in his eyes, to the threat of him and the threat of us that puts in jeopardy my future with Rumplestiltskin. Worse yet, there are times when I don't even care, too wrapped up in the feel of Hook to spare much if any thought as to what I am doing, who I will be hurting with my actions. That all changes soon after, the waves of doubt, dread and regrets hot on the heels of the receding pleasure I have received.

The worst is that the self anger and loathing, the regrets, are never strong enough to get me to stop. Hook just has to look at me, that hungry, predatory gleam bringing me to split apart, that other secret me emerging, the one who lives for these moments. That other Belle is just as huge a part of me as my every day face is, that woman passionate and wild, selfishly needy, undeniably attracted. Wanting and wanted, and not willing to share, that other me makes a mockery of my love and values, clinging to a man who would just as soon as hurt me as fuck me.

Not even the fact that Hook's done both, has been enough to get ME to stop. He's shot me, slapped me, threatened me on numerous occasion. He's never been exactly sorry, the man ruthless enough to do just about anything to get his revenge. He's driven and without much mercy, that side of him an eerie reflection of the man that I love. Hook and Rumplestiltskin are more alike than either would care to admit, both willing to do just about anything to achieve their goals. I'm caught between them, drawn to danger, to the risk I place myself in by being with both of them.

Addicted to it just as much as to them, I wonder when-how I became such a junkie for such danger. Always a bit of a thrill seeker, that adventurous heart inside me had-is always craving for more. New highs, that ecstasy of adrenaline, that rush of exhilaration when being threatened. Only to spiral down into the lowest of lows, that sensible, rational part of me leaving me to feel ashamed. It's never been enough to get me to quit cold turkey, it's never been enough to get me to even TRY.

Until now. It's not self respect, and it's not self preservation. It's not even a sense of right and wrong. It's none of these things that give me the strength to now try. It's my own jealousy, that mad rush of fury I had felt to realize I was nothing more than a substitute for the woman Hook had truly wanted. Hearing Emma's name uttered on his lips, knowing he thought of HER while inside me? Something not easily fixed had broken inside me, that sickening mix of jealousy, anger, and the need to possess him consuming me whole.

With those potent feelings churning inside me, I had been warmed from the inside out with my rage. I had turned on him, absolutely furious, and made even more so by the fact Hook hadn't even realized just what he had done. I hadn't taken the time to explain, more content to keep striking him with both my words and my slaps, my body shaking and made to feel dirty. In that one moment he had cheapened everything between us, and never had I felt more used than I did then, existing as just a shadow of the woman he had really wanted.

Not content to be her replacement, Emma's name had been the splash of cold water I had been needing. The motivating force to finally do the right thing, the sane thing, the only thing I could do. It's not something I can claim will be easy, having spent months-years with Hook on the sly. He knows how to work me, how to rile me up and render me weak and ready for his desires. I've never once tried to resist, but then I've never been as determined as I am now. It's for myself that I try to find the strength, because I won't be Emma's substitute, or Hook's plaything anymore.

I'm not thinking it will be easy, but neither am I prepared for just how determined Hook can be. I get my first taste of that determination when I hear the sounds of someone forcing their way into the pawn shop. It is a sound eerily similar to when Neal came crashing in earlier, and my face flushes a mortified red as I recall in vivid detail exactly what-who I had been doing at that precise moment. My body reacts to the memory, a shiver going through me as I force my legs to move. I propel myself to the front of the shop, and that's when I see him, see Hook. The front door is cracked open enough that he is trying to break the chain. I just stand there, not saying a word, not trying to help, and with a loud curse, the chain finally breaks under Hook's persistant onslaught.

He actually stumbles forward, then draws up short at the sight of me. I'm not sure what sort of expression I am wearing, but Hook frowns at it all the same.

"No need to look so disappointed, love." He says.

I react, that insincere endearment making me inwardly flinch. "I thought you might be..."

"Yes, I've no doubt you did." Hook interrupts. "But there's still been no sign of your crocodile." I frown at him for that, and start to ask Hook why he is here. I barely get out the words, Hook interrupting me to ask where Charming is.

"He's not here." I say, watching the puzzling way Hook reacts. "He left over an hour ago to help his wife with something."

"He LEFT you?!" It's almost a snarl, Hook propelling himself forward. He looks very angry, and I take an uncertain step back. "Alone? When that witch might very well be hunting you?"

"I managed fine on my own." The reassurance comes out defiant, my chin lifting stubbornly.

"You shouldn't have had too!" Hook growls. "I only agreed to stay at the hospital because Charming said he would stay with you!"

"It doesn't matter." I say, ignoring the way Hook sputters and growls. "It's not like you CARE."

I get the pleasure of seeing the shock register in his eyes, Hook looking as though my words had given him a very real slap to the face. And then I turn away, heading into the private rear of the shop. I hear the rustle and creak of the floorboards, Hook following close behind me. I busy myself with one of the many thick and ancient books, the pages turning with a rustle that sounds angry even to myself.

"Of course I...care." He finally says. I can hear the creak of something, a bookcase most likely, as Hook leans himself against it. "I wouldn't be HERE if I didn't."

I fight the snort his words arouse inside me, turning more pages, barely seeing the images and words printed on the paper. I'm no better at research now than I was earlier, but at least it gives me an excuse to not look at Hook.

"I'm sure Emma won't appreciate you leaving Neal."

"Emma fails to appreciate a lot of things where I am concerned." His reply makes my eyes widen slightly, and before I can stop myself, I am wondering about what that means. The angry rustle of paper increases, and this time it's myself I find fault with, for daring to be curious in even the slightest towards Hook and his situation with Emma.

"And Neal?" I say to distract us both from my reaction. "Is he still at the hospital?"

"No, he's long gone." Hook answers. "Probably off traipsing the woods with Emma somewhere."

"While you're stuck here with me."

"It's a choice I made." He insists. "I'm where I want to be."

"Now that I find hard to believe." I mutter it softly, and yet he still hears it, the creak of the bookcase sounding as Hook pushes away from it.

"Why is that, love?" He asks, and I try not to stiffen at his approach. I'm more aware of Hook behind me, than the book in front of me, my breath starting to slow in my chest. "Hmm?" He's gotten too close, his breath stirring strands of my hair. The pages of the book before me turn faster, any pretense at reading them lost to the nervous play of my hands.

I maintain my show of silence, trying not to shake when his hand covers and stops mine. The pages settle with a quiet rustle, the only sound in the shop that of our soft breathing and the tick tock of the clocks.

Hook's presence, his nearness hits me then, sizzling awareness sparking through me. He's too close, the pleasant clean scent of him filling me with every breath I take. The warmth of his hand, that light but possessive touch causing my skin to react, tiny pin point bumps prickling along the length of my arm. It's not wholly unpleasant, and yet I want to rub that feeling away, stamp it and the affect he has on me into the ground.

I let out a shaky breath, and stare sullenly down at his hand on top of mine. "I don't have time for this."

"This?" He questions in my ear, his warm breath caressing over the curve of it. I abruptly jerk away, putting distance between us. The self satisfied smile he gives me in response makes something in my belly flip, and it's a storm bitter look I give him.

"People are counting on me." I say. "The research I do here could prove invaluable..." I shake my head, and grab at a different book on the table. "I simply don't have the luxury of soothing your hurt feelings. No matter how badly Emma has hurt you this time."

I quickly look down at the book, busy myself with it's pages as Hook lets out a hiss of breath. "Emma? She's done nothing that..."

"Oh don't lie to me Hook. Not about this." I quickly interrupt. never taking my eyes off the pages of the book. "You and I both know how it usually plays out. She says or does something that you don't like, she hurts your feelings with her concern over Neal, drives you mad with jealousy, makes you seethe with the fact she is in love with another." I'm glaring at the book now as I speak, my voice a clipped tone meant to hide the feelings behind my words.

"It-SHE doesn't have anything to do with..."

"She has everything to do with this!" My voice snaps out forcefully, my agitated passion coloring that exclamation. Immediately I feel the heat warm my face, a mortified blush spreading across my skin. It's made all the worst when after a shocked pause, Hook laughs. An honest to goodness chuckle, his amusement heavy in that sound.

"You're jealous." He says, and Hook sounds all too satisfied and certain of that.

"Don't be ridiculous." I immediately retort. But I can't look at him, can't bring myself to so much as glare in his direction. "Why would I...?"

"You are." He insists, still sounding so smug and satisfied. "You shouldn't be."

"Oh?" It escapes me before I can bite down on my lip, my hands shaking as I hear Hook move. I take a step back, and then another, bumping into a knick knack lined shelf behind me. It's then that I look up, taken aback by the seriousness of his gaze. He maintains that look a second longer, then breaks it with a smirk, openly laughing at me. My heated cheeks warm further, my eyes narrowing into a severe gaze.

"Stop teasing me like this."

"Oh, love. I haven't begun to start teasing you." More smugness from him at the shiver I am unable to repress.

"You're in too good a mood for someone whose heart has been trampled." I finally mutter and look away. But not before I catch the sobering look in his eyes.

"Aye it's been trampled, but it's been that way for a while now." admits Hook. "I've just been too stubborn to want to admit it. To you, to myself, to anyone."

"What changed?" I inquire, making a half hearted show of rifling through the book.

"Kind of hard to keep lying to oneself when the truth is right there in front of one's eyes." He sighs then. "She loves HIM. And that's never going to change."

I can't bring myself to express my sorries for what-WHO he has lost. I frown at myself, for the uncharitable thoughts I have, for my own feeling of smugness, that need to possess him making me glad that SHE doesn't have him. Not anymore. But then neither do I, not in any meaningful way, and I try to squash down the rest of such thoughts before I lead myself to more trouble.

"If it's true, you can't change the heart." I mutter instead, a line from an old tome that has proven to be fact time and time again. Out the corner of my eye, I note the bob of Hook's head, the man actually agreeing with me.

"So now what?" I ask, curious despite all my intentions.

"Now?" He echoes, and I look up in time to catch that odd smile on his face. "I suppose I am now free to pursue other...avenues of interest."

"How..." I hesitate. "NICE for you."

"Not just for me." He grins at me in the way that sets me off shaking, things deep inside me clenching in reaction. I instantly busy myself with the book, my trembling fingers fumbling badly with the pages. I don't know what I am expecting him to say next, what I am secretly hoping for, but Hook doesn't follow that line of thought out loud. Instead he leans over the table, opening one of the many books there, to stare down at a random page. I am torn between disappointment and a sigh of relief, still unable to pay attention to the words before me in the book. Minutes pass like this, until Hook, his tone all too casual, breaks the silence.

"Do you ever wonder about the year you can't remember?"

"All the time." I truthfully answer. "But then, don't we all?" I eye him now, remembering Hook is just about the only person in Storybrooke to not be suffering under the spell of the witch.

"Why don't you ever talk about it?" I ask.

"Some things should remain buried." He tells me, carefully paging through the book.

"But not a whole town's worth of memories!" I protest.

"It's not the town I am concerned with." He mutters.

"Why? What did you do?" He looks up at me now, Hook's smile a coy expression of some inner amusement.

"So sure it's me that I am protecting?"

I blink slowly, then shake my head. "What? What are you getting at?"

"Are you sure you really want to know?" Hook asks me, pushing the book that he was browsing aside. "Because once that box is open, you may find it hard to shut it close again."

"I..." For one beat I hesitate, made so uncertain by his weak attempt at a warning. "I want-NEED to know. It might be important."

"You have no idea." He mutters it so soft and quickly, and in response I make a quizzical sound of his name.

"Hook?"

He locks eyes with me then, the dark blue of them so serious, with an undercurrent of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. There's a hint of a smile or smirk curving at the corners of that sensual mouth of his, and it's clear he's about to relish whatever it is Hook intends to tell me. I feel the uncertainty beat at my chest, my heart fluttering on a tremulous beat, the words to stop Hook frozen in my throat. There's a morbid need to know, to find out what secret could be so bad that even Hook would try to protect me from it.

"That year you can't remember...? You spent most of it with ME."

The shock hits me like a fist, my lips parting on a soft gasp. I stand there staring at him, and feel the heavy book slip out of my hands. It just misses my foot, thumping hard against the floor boards. I don't even react to that near miss, so busy staring at Hook. He grins at me, that amused light back in his eyes, the pirate leaning nonchalantly against the table while I gape and gasp at him.

"You're..."

"Lying?" Hook interrupts. "To what end would THAT serve?"

I can't think, I can't muster up a suitable retort. I can only stand there in total shock, wide eyed and staring at Hook as though the pirate has sprouted a second head. He maintains that cold amusement, watching me with a hooded gaze. There's a dozen half formed accusations fluttering about my thoughts, and not all of them are directed towards Hook. I want to scream and shout, maybe break down and cry. Through it all I think of my love, my so called feelings for Rumplestiltskin, and just how deeply I've betrayed him. I wonder if I ever even took the time to grieve him, and I wonder at just what I've become, the kind of woman I now am. Whoever she is, I don't like, and she leaves me wondering how much farther a woman like her-ME can sink.

To Be Continued...eventually...

*sighs* I freaking HATE this chapter. It didn't go the way I wanted it at all. First I have been struggling for nearly a month with this damn freaking chapter. Worst case of struggling ever, as I ended up with over 70 opening lines, and three wips, before I got one to my satisfaction. I thought once I got past establishing where Belle's head and thoughts are at, I would be over that hurdle and could get to some sexy shenanigans being attempted by Hook. That clearly never happened...maybe I'll come back and trash this chapter. I just don't know, and I am super frustrated.

Next chapter should probably be a Hook POV, but I just don't have it in me to attempt it at the moment. I am so damn sick of this particular chapter, the attempts to work on it. Honest feedback would be very much appreciated..I feel like I screwed up so badly here.

-Michelle

Ligeia Resurrected, thanks! Sorry about that, but I don't usually title the chapters. I dunno...it feels weird to start now...sorry for such a short reply...just feeling so frazzled and frustrated at the moment. Still flying by the seat of my pants it seems, as now even the Belle POV don't want to obey me when it comes to planning things..=/

Jewelzy, oh thank you! I'm glad the chapter helped you after the winter finale (Which was pretty amazing, yes! :D) and I LOVED the twist and turns of it. (The finale.) I just hope this chapter didn't disappoint too badly. I am so frustrated at the moment, I can't seem to find the good...if it exists for this chapter. =/

Clarembees, yes finally! Ho ho ho! Thanks! *super glomping hug* Thanks for explaining what stan meant..I feel like I should have known that, since I am familiar with that song and video. XD Thank you so much for the review, it cheers me up after struggling. Though I worry now everyone is gonna be disappointed with this train wreck of a chapter six. X_X

Zerousy, oh my goodness! I just laughed for what I assume is the second or third time over your "Hook no suffer like this, Hook Need smut NOW" comments. Yes! Oh man I really need to work on Trade Off...I actually tried to, actually went and reread all the chapters but couldn't get the next chapter of trade off started to my satisfaction either. I don't know what is wrong with me lately...=/ I want to write some smut for ya'll to read! *flails*

Fantasy Is Free, thank you and Happy New Years to you as well! I'm glad they make you happy, cause you gals and guys reviews make ME super happy in return!


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